


Group Work

by LupinSmiled



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, sleeping sirius, ticklish Sirius, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:51:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3743146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupinSmiled/pseuds/LupinSmiled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius is very ticklish especially on his tummy. Remus never lets him forget this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Group Work

**Author's Note:**

> this is a small, fluffy drabble requested by the fabulous faerie-mavis. have fun and tell me what you think!

Every now and then, Sirius falls asleep on the big comfy couch in the Gryffindor common room. Usually when he tries to pull an all-nighter with Remus to finish their potions group work. Sirius teases his potions partner regularly for his lack of talent with any kind of mixing ingredients, this night, however, the black haired boy was already worn out from his earlier quidditch practice and by the time the common room slowly emptied, Remus had already started to write down the theoretical steps for their potion.

“Sirius, I know this will sound like a stupid question, but I want to be sure not to burn my eyebrows off again, is it alright if the steeler we need for this Doxycide is turning from blue to slightly red? And I don’t mean any shade of violet or purple, I really mean a very deep bloody red? Because in the text book it showed a green one, I think, well I know it was previously blue but blue is still closer to green than – Sirius? Do you even listen?”

Addressed boy lays on his favorite couch, limps sprawled out, half on a close coffee table half thrown over the back rest.

No longer dressed in his quidditch robes, but in blue worn out jeans and a simple white shirt leaving a small gap of tanned skin between his trousers and white fabric. Anyhow the biggest indicator that Sirius was, in fact, not listening, his left leg twitching over the back rest and the little whimpers, typically for Padfoot.

Slightly confused but sure his poor friend dreams of hunting a very particular fast rabbit, Remus slowly rises and sneaks up to the back of the couch, still armored with his quill. James would have written ‘wanker’ all over Sirius face, but Remus uses the feathery side of his quill to carefully pull the white shirt up a little more until he had quite a good few on his friend’s tanned and well-toned belly.

The werewolf just stares at the contrast of clear white fabric, dark skin and washed out blue jeans for, approximately, a minute. A loud snore, a shifting body, a hand rubbing the appropriate tummy and a frozen Remus later, the latter remembered his self-given task. With a shaking hand, Remus continues tracing lines around the sleeping boy’s hand and belly button. He is awarded with a hoarse giggle, smacked sleeping lips and, unfortunately, a hadn sprawled out over Sirius tummy.

With a small sigh, the sand blonde starts tickling his friend’s left side, still with his very useful quill. Briefly he wonders why he never thought of using this very, very useful item this way ever before. Why always writing with a quill, if you can drive people mad with it in so many other ways, especially his boyfriend, who is, to Remus delight, especially ticklish at his tummy.

“Because whenever your fingers come close to his tummy to faintly, he squeals like a thirteen year old girl and jumps away from you as if you have threatened to shave his head in his sleep, that’s why.” mumbles Remus to himself.

Another giggle, a snore and finally, a shifting towards the edge of the couch. Ignoring his almighty weapon, the werewolf reaches for Sirius’ tummy with his free hand and attacks it with his fingertips. The other boy immediately reacts, in order to escape his torture, he rolls on his belly or would have, if the couch did not reach its capacity of space causing Sirius to collide with the floor with a thump. Now awoke he spills out every swear word he can think of, looking around irritated.

“What the dancing hippogriff am I doing of the merlindamned floor?! Oi Moony! What happened??”

“Well, you know, there was this army of Doxies attacking you and all I tried was to get them away from you.”

“Doxies? In the common room? What?? Defend me? With your quill against Doxies? Did you want to drown them in your ink you have left on your – wait. You, what did you really do with your quill? Was it, was it you who who invaded my poor tummy and made me dream of TICKLE HELL??”

“Now you’re exaggerating, Sirius. Get up, we have work to do and it’d late and I want to go to bed. Besides, puppies like belly rubbing, even Padfoot does.”

“That was not rubbing! That was hell! Pure, evil tickle hell. How do you plan to make up for it?”

“WORK! Now! Or I’ll show you what real hell is, Black!”


End file.
